


Diplomatic Difficulties

by TemenCMoth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-08-08 11:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7756249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemenCMoth/pseuds/TemenCMoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allura sat with her head in her hands. Coran balked. Hunk was frozen, new goo concoction slowly leveling out on the floor. Shiro looked stricken, hand in a white-knuckle grip on the back of a chair. The only sound in the room was the little clack-clack of Pidge's keyboard.</p><p>The room was filled with tension thick enough to be cut with a bayard, a silence so loud none of them noticed Rover hovering behind Keith.</p><p>They sure noticed when he started playing the Wedding March.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Galreth is Thrown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... I could say this is too long, but it's my own damn fault, wanting to write a neato Accidental Marriage with an alien race with subplots and stuff. Even then I feel like I haven't spent enough time on it... I'm sure that will change soon. I'll almost definitely edit this after it's gone up, haha/
> 
> I'm not _100%_ sure where this is going to go, so more tags might be added, but for now it's purely Klance relationship-wise.
> 
> EDIT 8/13/16: Minor stuff + a couple of clarifications. It should read smoother now!  
> Enjoy!

 

 

Allura sat with her head in her hands. Coran balked. Hunk was frozen, new goo concoction slowly leveling out on the floor. Shiro looked stricken, hand in a white-knuckle grip on the back of a chair. The only sound in the room was the little clack-clack of Pidge's keyboard.

"Listen—"

" _QUIZNAK_!" Screamed Allura. "How in the name of my father's kingdom did you agree to be—"

"DON'T SAY IT!" Lance covered his ears, desperate. Keith's eyebrow twitched but he was otherwise stiff as a board next to him, stuck in parade rest.

"The Parencia are very particular about their customs," Coran fussed, "and it is beyond me how you could have possibly fulfilled all 56 steps to—"

"LALALALALA I'M NOT LISTENING!"

"Lance, honestly." Shiro's grip on the chair hadn't loosened. "I understand it was an accident, but to pull Keith into a—"

"Oh my god are you guys STILL talking?" Lance turned to Hunk, who was looking at him with wide eyes. "A little backup man? Please?"

Hunk's face slowly morphed into the picture of glee, and a he began to emit a high-pitched squee. Lance groaned.

"Ohmygod!" Hunk grabbed onto his shoulders, displacing his arms. "Does this mean I get to make a cake? I never thought that I'd get to go to a—"

"EH!" Lance pointed at Hunk, like chastising a pet. When Hunk opened his mouth to speak again he wiggled his finger in what he hoped was a threatening manner. The room was filled with tension thick enough to be cut with a bayard, a silence so loud none of them noticed Rover hovering behind Keith.

They sure noticed when he started playing the Wedding March.

 

  
~*~*~*~

 

  
The Parecian General outstretched his hands before the grand, doors inlaid with intricate patterns of silvery metals and polished red jewel. "Please Paladins, enjoy what you have saved today." The sound of well-oiled gears started up, and the entrance to the capitol gardens crept open.

The gardens were beautiful, a motley of brilliantly-hued flowers over a carpet of blue-green and soft pink grass. The immediate view of the garden was strictly regimented, every petal perfect; multiple rows of lavender-like flowers standing at perfect, even heights like soldiers; topiaries cut into presumably perfect recreations of local fauna; and the centerpiece was an exquisite wall, about ten feet high, covered in rose-like flowers shifting colors in intricate patterns. The general preened under their awe.

"The shifting wall is comprised of our Seszuah! They are a great point of pride for our capitol gardens. Please, if you all would like a demonstration?" The rest of the group followed close behind, Pidge running up to the wall to inspect them more closely.

"Are these a bioengineering project, or is there like a natural chemical manipulation?" She pushed her glasses up, inspecting the wall behind the flowers. "I don't see how you could get the precision either way, it seems like they're changing on a... petular basis." She looked to Hunk. "Petular?" Hunk shrugged.

"You're very perceptive, Green Paladin." He smiled. "I may operate it, if you'd like?" 

Pidge's eyes shone. "Operate?"

"Why, of course!" General walked to the side of the wall and pulled out a small console. He smiled and turned some knobs, making the colors before them go crazy. "Any requests?"

"Can you spell my name?" Asked Lance. "Oh! No, Voltron! Can it say Voltron?"

The general smiled, and the flowers became a wall of black. A series of geometric shapes showed up, in the colors of the Paladins. "It is in the Parencian language, if that is acceptable."

"Dude it's awesome! Uh, sir." Lance walked up to the blue section of the name. "This really is something special."

"It is achieved by a mixture of the bioengineering and chemical signaling." He pulled a petal from a flower and bought it to the group. "Very few flowers changed naturally, and even then they don't have half the range of these. Our scientists were able to coax these out, but the problem was control." He waved the petal over the wall, and it changed to the closest color when it passed.

"Oh, so there's some dispersal of chemicals through the wall?" Hunk was interested now, scouring the wall. "Is it a Solemean Spray system?"

"Right on the money!" The general handed the petal to Allura. "For you, Princess."

"Your gift belongs to my people more than I." She said, putting her hands atop each other, giving it room in her cupped hands. The general looked quite pleased by her statement.

"I'm afraid you'll have to drag it out of me if you want the exact chemicals we use, it's actually a highly prized secret!" He pointed to Allura's hands. "You'll be able to see what we call the resting color when it gets far enough away from the wall. It's still quite brilliant, of course! She we move further on?"

Further inside, there was a more sprawling meadow with the flowers allowed to breathe more freely. Dotting the grass were daisy-like flowers with soft, square stems that bent readily in any and every miniscule breeze. There were navy blue bushes with green and scarlet flowers, a gaggle of moonlike and pea-colored blooms, and trees with gold bells hanging down, all surrounding a grassy meadow. There was a gazebo towards the back on a small hill, secluded by hanging vines in deep, deep forest greens.

"This is my Yeoman, Mix Traatoskophy." The general beamed. "She will be here to fill in any gaps in knowledge I've surely left. Is that acceptable?"

"More than." Allura touched her forehead, chin, and abdomen with her palm before extending her hand. "I can only pray that we may repay your kindnesses."

The general looked downright charmed and repeated the gesture with gusto. "I can only pray that we may repay yours." He shook Allura's hand with vigor, and then they did a more complicated sequence of interlocking fingers. "Princess! Your grasp of custom is most admirable, and continues to impress. And such distinguished traditions as well!"

Allura looked relived. "I'm glad to know that they were not so changed. I would be loathe to offend you or your people."

He laughed heartily. "Never princess, the effort you've already made is admirable. I hate to bother, but may I steal you away to my office to discuss some arrangements?"

"Of course!" She looked to the others. "Paladins, please be respectful of our hosts. They are being most generous most their gifts." Her face was a thin veneer of pleasantness, but in front of steel-hard threats easily recognized by the Paladins. "Please try not to cause any trouble."

"When have we ever?" asked Hunk. "No need to worry, Princess." At his feet, Pidge was already squat down on the ground, tongue sticking out to lick some of the local flora with an eye on a softly beeping doodad in her hands. Allura turned to Shiro.

"Please try to keep them out of trouble?"

Shiro nodded, grave. "I'll try my best."

"Now if any of you have any concerns at all, please ask Mix Traatoskophy. She was personally responsible for much of landscaping here!" He leaned in, conspiratorially. "And don't worry, we won't hold you to the our strict standards of our ritual. We've learned by now that most diplomatic partners do not understand our more noble and elaborate ceremonies. So long as you aren't too rude, you'll do well!"

He bid a short goodbye and escorted Allura off, already absorbed in diplomatic chatter. Mix Traatoskophy smiled at them and addressed the Paladins with a small, clear voice.

"You are welcome to partake of the flowers here, in any way you see fit. I am unsure if ingestion will be... compatible with your biology, but from my understanding you have all had allergy testing that came back negative for extreme reaction on the most common elements and flora here. Please, feel free to enjoy them at your leisure." They gave a complicated salute over their chest that Shiro attempted to replicate.

"We will do our best to respect your customs." They smiled politely and went to sit on a grey stone bench out of the way. When they turned away, Shiro smacked the back of Pidge's head without looking, displacing a lighter she held under one of the daisy flowers. "Maybe don't burn their prized plants."

"They said we could do what we wanted!" She whined, shutting up at Shiro's scolding look and sticking the lighter back in her pocket, grumbling.

Spotting some globes hanging on vines nearby, Hunk's eyes lit up. "Pidge, do you have your edibility-testy-thingy? We might be able to eat something that's not goo for once!" Pidge held up the doodad they were holding earlier, excited.

Shiro moved over to Keith, who up to this point had been silent. He was looking around, brow furrowed, like he was panning escape routes. "The flowers aren't going to jump us Keith, you don't have to worry so hard."

Keith jumped and turned to face Shiro. "I know, I'm just—" He looked to Pidge and Hunk. "I'm a little scared to touch anything. Remember the incident on Shalandhar?"

Shiro laughed, a little tired at the memory. "If it helps, I'm really not worried about you sparking a Civil War again. For what we know, this planet is pretty united." He followed Keith's line of sight, where Pidge had clamored on Hunk's shoulders for better access to high fruit. "You can't be any worse than... Others I could name." Keith laughed, his shoulders unravelling the smallest bit.

"Still, I'm not even sure what to do with myself here." He looked around. "Do we just kinda... Look at stuff? Help Hunk pick plants?"

"Well, you can do whatever you feel like."

"Yo guys!" They both looked to Lance as he jogged up to them, excited.

"Check this out!" Lance, excited, held a palm-sized bloom out from them. "It's like, a Pidge flower!"

The flower in question was evocative of the shape of Pidge's hair, and had the same green of Pidge's lion. There were even cream stipples grouped around the stamen, in two circles.

Shiro blinked. "That is... Pretty crazy."

Lance beamed. "Isn't it? And it's so nice looking too!" He looked at it, considering. "If she wanted, I could probably make a crown from them. Their stems are long enough, I'm pretty sure." He wandered away from the pair over to Pidge, who was standing guard over a small pyramid of shiny fruits. "Yo Pidge!"

"What's up?"

He presented the flower for examination. She looked at it, then passed her doodad over it. "It's coming up edible, go for it."

"No!" Lance laughed. "It's you!"

"What?"

"Look closer," He held it out,  "This flower looks _just_ like you."

She readjusted her glasses and peered closer at the flower. "Still don't see it."

"Don't see what?" Hunk came up, holding a woven basket loosely in one hand.

"This flower looks just like Pidge! Tell me you see it." Lance said eagerly, holding it out for examination. "It's her Lion's color, it looks like her hair, it's even got her glasses!"

Hunk gasped. "Oh my gosh! That's incredible!" He took a closer look. "Aww, the  little glasses are so cute! How crazy is this?"

"It's edible."

"Pidge, I couldn't eat you!" Hunk put the basket down. "Where'd you find it?"

"There's a huge group of them over there." Lance gestured behind them. "I actually came over to ask if Pidge wanted a crown from them."

Pidge looked up from her doodad. "A crown?"

"A flower crown!" He twirled the flower in his finger, spinning it like a helicopter. "Marci was crazy about them for a while, I made so many daisy chains I thought my hands were gonna fall off."

Hunk laughed. "I remember that. You totally should! And then make me one!"

"You _know_ I will bro! I think there are some neat orange ones further in." He held up his hand. "How bout a five, for my leet flower skillz?"

"Oh no." Pidge made a face. "That's the worst thing you've ever said, I don't want it anymore."

"How about a TEN?" Hunk asked, smacking their hands together. The flower fluttered to the ground. "Ah shoot."

"Y'know," Pidge said, their eyes locked onto the fallen bloom. "It might be a good way to test the pliability of the stems. For all we know it could be stronger than a carbon blend!" She fingered a small bulge in her pocket with a glint in her eye. "It might have... other useful properties too."

Lance hmm'd. "You don't have to cover it up, you just want one of my legendary crowns."

"C'mon Pidge, let's try to find other things we can grab." Pidge perked up at the prospect of discovery. They ran off and Lance wandered back to the flower cluster.

Keith was there when he arrived, looking down at the flowerbed. He was holding his hands behind his back, wearing a curious expression. "Hey."

Keith looked up back to him. "Hey." He looked at Lance, not saying a word. This carried on for a couple beats before Lance laughed, trying to break the weird mood.

"Whatchya looking at?"

"Oh, just... these flowers I guess." He looked back at the dark mulch. "I've never seen ones that glitter before. It's... nice?"

Lance looked down to the flowers that seemed to guard the Pidge flowers, a black that sparked red and orange with every shift of light. Lance laughed. "You would like these. edgy fireboy." He crouched down to pick some of the green flowers. "I'm going to make a crown for Pidge, maybe I'll make one for you with— He stopped and frowned at the ones he'd already picked. "Hey, how big do you think Pidge's head is?"

Keith thought a bit, then made a circle with his hands. "This big?"

Lance pondered the size of the circle, then pondered the flowers. "I guess I can do it in twenty? What do you think?"

"I don't—" Keith looked annoyed, "I don't really know how to make flower crowns." He crouched next to Lance, looking pointedly at the flowers. "Didn't learn when I was young. And there's not a lot of flowers in the desert."

"Oh yeah." Lance shifted. "I guess so, huh." He pulled a couple more flowers in silence, Keith a silent heat beside him. This really wasn't a big flowerbed, but the proximity seemed a little much. "Hey if," He looked to Keith. "If I make you a crown, do you want the black flowers?"

Keith looked flustered at the question. "Oh, you don't—"

"Don't make it weird man." Lance stood up, flexing his weirdly sweaty palms around the stems. "I'm making one for Hunk too, probably doing one for everybody. Bonding, yanno?"

"Bonding." Keith fiddled with his glove, looking out at the others putting fruit in the basket in the field. "Yeah."

Lance's feet were frozen in place, feeling a little to awkward to move. Lance couldn't stop looking down at Keith. "Are— So— Yeah." Keith looked back up at him, looking a little weirded out. Lance bristled and broke eye contact. "Oh— Shut up."  He walked out to a clear spot in the field, beginning to work.

***

Lance placed the crown softly on Shiro's head, careful not to get the leaves caught in his white tuft. "Done!"

Shiro straightened, looking a champion with a crown of small black flowers surrounded by a bed of laurel-like leaves. "This is amazing Lance, thank you."

"Yeah, well." Lance sniffed, prideful. He looked to Hunk, who brushed some hanging flowers from his brow and peeled some aromatic bark from a broken branch. Pidge's sat high from her face as she held her lighter beneath a broad leaf that was beginning to smoke, a small army of inquisitors. "It is me."

His gaze drifted over to the patch of black and green flowers, a little more lonely. "Where'd Keith go?"

"I'm not sure." Shiro scanned the garden, his gaze landing on Pidge and the leaf. "Should we stop her?"

"Can we stop her?"

Shiro gave a short laugh. "Well, you know her. Can't get enough of flowers. Or wait," he raised his voice so she could hear, "Was that science at ungodly hours?"

"You shut up," She yelled back, "I've made a lot of important breakthrough in those small hours."

He quirked a brow. "Yup, the food goo gun was _completely_ necessary."

The leaf was turning black. "Keep talking like that and you won't be on my side come the next food war."

"Keep burning that leaf and you won't be allowed back on the Castle."

"You're not my dad!"

"Might as well be." Shiro said under his breath. He turned to Lance. "I'm not sure these crowns were a great idea after all, I'm not sure we can handle more Pidge." He waved a short apologetic goodbye to Lance and went to sort out the situation that had spread to Hunk's bounty.

When Lance turned around, Mix Traatoskophy was standing very close behind him. Very, very close.

"AH!" He yelped. Mix Traatoskophy just stared at him. "H-Hey. What's up?"

"Are you going to make another crown?" They asked, intent. Their wide eyes shone and there was a bluish-green tinge high on their cheekbones. Their previous composure was shuddering under the strain of... something.

"Yeah, I—" Lance floundered under the intensity of their gaze. "Did you— Want one? I could—"

"No!" They cried, shaking their head vigorously. "It's going to the Red Paladin, correct?"

"...Yeah?" A sense of dread began to ignite a little panic his chest. Was this going to be another Shalandhar? Allura was going to _kill_ him. "I'm sorry about picking so many flowers, was that—"

"Come with me." She grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly painful grip and dragged him to the wall of Seszuah. She loked him in the eyes, serious. "Would you like to use these?"

Lance looked up to the wall stretching above him. "Seriously? I mean, I was planning on using those—" He gestured to the black ones and was cut off by Mix Traatoskophy letting out a high shriek. "Or not! Oh my god I'm Sorry, I'll—" 

"Please use whatever you want!" She yelled, face even bluer. She picked a neon orange flower hurriedly from the wall and put it into Lance's hand before running off to one of the discrete side doors, exclaiming something in Parencian.

Lance looked down at the rose-like flower in his hands, with a surprisingly long and pliable stem without thorns. Slowly, as it was away from the wall, it began to fade into a brilliant scarlet with the inner petals gaining a gold sheen. "Woah." It matched the colors glittering black flowers perfectly.

This crown was gonna be so cool. Lance considered for a half a second that it was too pretty for Keith. He pushed it out of his head quickly, as it ssat unevenly somehow. "I promised him a crown didn't I?" He looked to Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro, who were all laughing together over some slightly blackened fruit. He smiled and walked over, his fingers itching to begin weaving flower stems.

  
***

Hunk gave a low whistle, admiring the crown Lance made. "I gotta say man, you've really outdone yourself."

"I agree Lance." Shiro said, passing a leaf that fell from his crown between his fingers. "You're very talented at stuff like this."

"Hey, he's gotta be good for something."

"Ah, shaddup." Lance rested an elbow on Pidge's head, ignoring the indignant yelp. "You're just jealous that your book smarts don't translate to _beauty_."

"I think I saw Keith head over near the gazebo." Hunk supplied, a few crumbs falling from his mouth.

"I'm just glad he hasn't climbed over the garden walls and caused another interplanetary incident."

"Hey now," Shiro gently reprimanded. "With our track record, that could've happened to any of us."

Lance quirked a brow. "Would any of us have punched someone like that?"

"Why don't you go get him that crown?"

Lance laughed at the dismissal and strode over to the shaded area. "Yo Keith! You over here?"

Keith emerged from the shadows of the wooden structure, out of the window closest to Lance. "What's up?" He asked from above. 

Suddenly there was a sharp, collective intake of breath. They looked up alarmed, seeing a crowd had amassed at the balcony overlooking the gardens. Keith looked to Lance with a question on his brow. "I didn't do anything!" Lance shrugged, and put up a hand in a confused wave, and they burst into excited murmurs.

"What's with them?" Keith asked.

"I dunno. I guess cause we're human? Or special guests or something?" He fingered the edge of the crown before realizing it was still in his hands. "Oh yeah!"He held it up.  "Here you go."

Keith looked at the crown, to Lance's face, then back to the crown. "What's that?"

"Your crown man!" He came closer to Keith, looking almost straight up to him. "It was only a few minutes ago, is your mind going?"

"It is not!" Keith snapped. "I just didn't think you'd do it."

Lance barked out a laugh. "And leave you out of the bonding?" He jerked a thumb at the others, who waved back to the pair. "Everyone's got one man."

"You don't."

Beat. "Huh?"

Keith studied him, and Lance kind of regretted moving so close. And being at a lower angle. And ever enrolling in the Garrison come to—"Did you not make one for yourself?"

Lance laughed, the same discomfort from the flowerbed creeping up on him again. "Why don't you make it? From what I can tell, you've just been roaming around the garden like a crazy man."

Keith scrunched his face up, brow wrinkling and nose crinkling. "I told you, I don't know how."

"I'll show you, we can make it together." He said dismissively. He held up the crown in both hands. "Wanna grab it? I can't give it to you from down here."

Kith looked surprised. "Are you... Sure?"

"What?" Lance balked. A little splash of rage came over him. "Dude, it's not that bad! If it's not good enough for— "

"No! No, I mean..." Keith looked askance, toward the group with Shiro who looked statuesque in his laurels and Pidge beside him, the crown falling in her eyes. "It was a lot of work..."

"Look, if you really don't wanna wear it, that's fine."

"No! I-" Lance swore there was a little color booming on his cheeks, but the shadows make it hard to tell. "I'm worried I'm gonna break it."

Lance laughed. "Don't worry, so long as you let it sit that heavy crown of hair you've got it'll be fine." He stuck in nose in the air, letting out an air of pretentious pride, affecting a pompous accent. "I take great pride in the care of my crowns, thank you." He lifted it up again, a more genuine question on his face. "So do you want it?"

Keith smiled, more relaxed than lance can recall seeing him. "I'll come out of here, how about that?" He climbed out through the window (Still a show off, Lance thought privately.) and landed in front of Lance, who was again acutely aware of their lack of distance. Keith looked to the crown, then ducked his head. Seeing an opportunity, Lance took the crown and placed it gently on Keith's bowed head, fingers brushing over his smooth hair. When he released his fingers, they touched the tips of Keith's ears and the glittering black flowers stayed in place.

"See? Nothing to worry about." Lance said, mouth dry. Keith looked up at him under his ( ~~thick~~ , ~~pretty,~~  obnoxious) lashes and smiled.

"Thanks."

"It's good to see you guys getting along." Shiro laughed, coming over to clap them on the back, making them almost jump out of their skin. Hunk and Pidge were also there, looking pretty content.

Keith kept smiling. His rare, genuine smile too, not at anyone's (Lance's) expense. He reached down and picked up one of the many dasiylike flowers sticking out from the grass. "I don't know how to make all that, but I can give you this."

Suddenly, there was a roar of boisterous applause from the balcony. On alert, the paladins all whipped their heads to a group of Parecians, who were all hugging each other, or on the verge of tears, or shouting seemingly encouraging things down below.

Mix Traatoskophy casught their attention, large eyes misty and blue-greener than ever, visible still across the distance. "Congratulations, Blue and Red Paladins!" They fanned their face, overwhelmed. "It means so much to us, to me personally, that you would choose _our_ gardens as your Forthanjoa!" A few tears began to form in their eyes. "To think, the gardens I worked so _dearly_ on..." They hid their face in a handkerchief, loudly blowing their nose.

Lance blinked. "Our what?"

"The general is coming now with your Princess!" Mix Traatoskophy continued. "Oh, this is s bright day indeed!" They began to hum a strange melody beneath their vocal chords, a few others joining in a strange harmony.

Keith turned to Shiro, beginning to panic. "Did Allura mention anything like this? Some— Celebration or something?"

Shiro looked puzzled. "I don't think so?" He looked to the others, who shook their heads.

"Did we accidentally offend them?" Hunk gasped. "Oh no, can we make it up?"

"It doesn't look like they're too offended." Pidge looked to the balcony, which was becoming overcrowded with euphoric onlookers. They all kept pointing to him and Keith, the latter of which was beginning to look supremely uncomfortable at the attention. Lance unconciously angled himself to block him. 

"This is gonna be Shalandhar all over again." Moaned Keith.

A breath later, Allura and the General came running in. "Oh happy day!" The general shouted, overjoyed. He looked to Mix Traatoskophy above them all. "Could the news be true? Do we have a genuine Forthanjoa on this day?"

Mix Traatoskophy nodded in conformation, blowing their nose again. "Truly! And more than that" they squealed, excited "It is a Garleth! A true _Garleth_!"

"A _GARLETH_?!" The general fell off of his equilibrium before quickly righting himself. He strode proudly over to Lance and Keith, shaking each of their hands vigorously. "Gentlemen, we thank you profusely! To do so great an honor to our home, our _land_ —" Fat green tears began to pool in his eyes. The shaking stopped but his vicegrip remained on their hands. "You honor us. You honor us!" He shook Allura's hand, then ran over to the balcony and started conversing in rapidfire Parencian.

Allura coughed, polite. Slowly, the Paladins turned around to see thin veneer of pleasantness with deep, murderous intent behind them. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves Paladins, but I'm afraid we need to get back to the Castle as soon as possible."

Shiro audibly gulped. "Yes, princess."

 

~*~*~*~

 

"WE ARE NOT GETTING MARRIED!" Keith exploded, drowning out the sound of Pidge's raucous laughter, so loud it almost made Lance's ears ring. "We are not engaged, we are not dating, sometimes we are not even _friends_." He turned to Lance. "No offense."

"No, same."

"We are going to march right back to that stupid glass triangle or whatever and setting their record straight, and Lance—" He grabbed Lance's ear with an intent to kill ("OW!") "—is going to apologize."

"I wish we could." Coran sighed into the table. "But there are... Diplomatic difficulties."

"'Difficulties' doesn't even begin to cover it." Allura stood up from the table ("OW Keith let _go_ of my ear PLEASE") and marched over to the boys. "If they find out we've deceived them about something as important as this we may as well turn ourselves over to the Galra!"

Shiro blinked. "Is it really that bad?"

Allura let out a short frustrated groan. "The Parencians are very advanced, and in some areas very, very particular. They place a very high value on the formalizations of relationships, from friendships to kismesitude to adoptions— It's basically the cornerstone of their cultural society."

"And marriages, as a positive union of two persons, are definitely near the top of the pyramid." Coran added.

"Well that's kinda nice." Hunk mused, mopping up the goo he spilled earlier. "Love being the cornerstone and stuff. Are their ceremonies like ours? Can I try to make a cake?"

"You can do whatever you want if you get Keith OFF OF MY EAR." Lance was ineffectualy trying to pry off Keith's arm. "OW! Don't squeeze _more_!"

"Nobody will be baking anything. Do not encourage this." Keith hissed at Lance.

"You're right, who knows if I can find a good flour substitute?" Hunk looked sadly down at the goo he was cleaning. "I could maybe get a custard, at least..."

"OW! Keith, let go of my ear already!"

"Keith, please let go of Lance's ear." Shiro asked levely. "We'll find some way to fix this." He turned to Allura, in full strategy-leader mode. "The general seemed to be a reasonable person, is it possible to speak with him?"

"Don't think I haven't thought of it." Admitted Allura. "But it is a far bigger favor than you think."

"You see," continued Coran, "Lance proposed—" ("Accidentaly! OW!") "—In a Garleth. If I didn't know any better, I'd believe that you researched this extensively." He pulled up a holoscreen displaying an elaborate tapestry of two Parencians with entwined fingers and flower stems. "The history of the Garleth is truly fascinating, but it basically outlines the engagement of one of their greatest heros." He sighed. "I've been studying it since I'd been alerted of the situation, but from every angle you've faithfully duplicated one of the most important myths in their culture, down to some of the smallest details. Keith even climbed through the gazebo window, for goodness' sake!" He looked at the group suspiciously. "You all didn't plan this, did you?"

"Of course we didn't!" Keith yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why on Eareth would I want to get married to _him_?"

"Hey!" Lance protested, rubbing feeling back into his ear. "I'm not that bad."

Coran sighed. "It would have to be all of you. From the number of fruits Hunk picked to Pidge burning the Torth leaf, you covered every conceivable angle."

Shiro shot a disappointed look to Pidge, who looked indignant. "How in the universe could I have known that?"

"None of you could have known, but that doesn't change the situation." Allura stood beside Coran. "The point is, if you two don't go through with the ceremony Voltron could be in deep trouble. And you," she pointed to Keith and Lance, menacingly, "will be in more trouble than you could ever imagine."

Lance gave small "meep" and Keith blanched. The room was silent again as the threat weighed heavily on the room. Hunk shot a dirty look at the woven basket of fruit on the table.

"And to think, I trusted you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hella unbeta'd, even though I edited it more than I should have, so feel free to tell me if you see anything. Or if you see anything... you like *wonk**  
> ,';^)  
> Edit: ok there's a lot I'll fix it in the morgning, I promise  
> Edit8/13/16: Fixed! But still, please lmk of any issues!


	2. We Almost Had an Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long! a couple things:
> 
> 1\. I was in Baton Rouge when the Louisiana flooding happened, so I didn't get to work on this for a few days. I and my family are ok and we were lucky enough to escape any water damage.  
> 2\. I started my sophomore year of college on the 22nd, so I was busy packing and getting settled in and such!
> 
> So what I have here is just the first half of the chapter. I'll get the second out as soon as I can-- You can take it that my chapters will generally be about 5,000 words for this. If I get the next one done soon enough, I'll tack it up here as well.
> 
> Please, enjoy what I have so far! It's been a blast reading your comments, honestly they have kept me going.

 

 

Hunk's knife moved in and out of the Soltan fruit smoothly. Behind him, strips of aromatic bark and goo sizzled in a wide pan. Each cut released a sharp, earthy smell against the headier spices in the air. Hunk hummed an aimless tune to the rhythm of his knife, before scooping the slices up and depositing it in the pan. There were a series of shuffling steps, a thunk on the table and a loud groan.

Hunk made a sympathetic noise, eyes still on the stove. "She really cut into you, huh?"

"You've got no idea." Lance mumbled into the table. He sat up, following the motion and letting his head flop on the back of the chair. "I'm blaming you for all of this, just so you know."

"Aww, come on." Hunk stirred the pan, checking the color. "How is this on me? As much as I love you man, you’re kinda the one that did the proposing."

Lance narrowed his eyes, thinking hard on it. "Well- Who wanted another crown after Pidge? I coulda just used the freaky Pidges, but _noooo_. You had to call next." He slumped back onto his palm and grumbled into his hand. “Not to mention that you picked like, picked all the fruit or whatever.”

"You could've stopped making crowns after me! You and I both know you’re just being grumpy.”

Lance crossed his arms, grumpily. “M’not grumpy.”

“Okay, Grumpy Gus. Besides," he picked up a handful of bark shavings and added them to the mixture, “All of this has been such a crazy coincidence it kind of can't be _anybody’s_ fault.”

Lance made a frustrated noise. "If I made one for just you two, Shiro would've given me the—" He waggled his fingers. "Guilt look. You know."

Hunk shuddered. "Oh man, no one deserves the Puppy Eyes."

Lance sighed. "Man, I know it wasn’t on purpose, but I'm still gonna say it's your fault."

Hunk frowned into the pan. "If it makes you feel better, I guess. But the specific flowers were a big part of it, right?" He shined a grin to Lance, who bristled. "Didn't know you were such a natural romantic."

"Ah, shut up." Lance pushed up heavily from the table and came over to the stove. "What are you making, anyway?"

Hunk smiled and held up an uncut Soltan. "I'm working with these! They're pretty good, I'm actually trying to make this dish they talked about in one of the stories." He ran a hand over the smooth pink flesh. "Y'now, apparently everything in that garden had some deep meaning. Like the whole garden almost tells a story! These are symbolic of approval."

"Approval?" Lance leaned his hip against the counter, curious but fatigue evident in his movements.

"Yeah." Hunk grabbed the knife he was using earlier and cut a slice into it. "Approval."

"Hn."

"Of, say, unions."

Lance scratched his cheek and yawned. "Huh."

"Like marriages."

"I'm leaving."

Hunk couldn't stop his smile turning to laughter. "Aw, I'm just messing with you." He held the slice out to Lance, a peace offering. "You never tried it, right?"

Lance eyed it suspiciously. "Does eating this mean anything? Am I gonna be married to one of the mice or something if I eat that?"

Hunk gave it exaggerated contemplation. "Hmmmmmmm... I think not?" He cracked a smile. "And besides, I don't see any Parencians around. You know I wouldn’t do that to you anyways."

“Which is why you’re my favorite.” Lance eyed it, shrugged, and took it from Hunk's hand. The flesh inside was a soft, shiny yellow. "What's it taste like?"

"Kinda like a...” Hunk tried to communicate through a complicated hand gesture before giving up and scratching his head. “Okay, Imagine if an orange was a tomato."

Lance looked down at the fruit for a moment before bringing it up to his mouth. "It's gotta be better than goo."

The moment his teeth tore into the pith Keith came into the room, glowering. Lance tried to simultaneously open his mouth to greet Keith and bite harder into the fruit to stop himself from doing so, causing a stream of juice to spurt from his mouth and fall down his chin, culminating in an ineloquent " _Klagh!_ " and a bit of fumbling to keep the fruit from falling.

"Hello to you too." Keith said dryly, flipping a hand towel over his shoulder. He eyed the new wet spot on the floor. "I just came in to check for my water bottle. Have you seen it Hunk?"

Lance swallowed the mass in his mouth. "Maybe I know where it is. You ever think about that?"

"Do you know where it is?"

Lance wiped juice from his chin. "No."

"My best guess? I think someone might have put it with the cups. I can help you look for it later." Hunk supplied, fiddling with the heat settings on the stove. "Right now I've gotta sit on this, sorry."

Keith shrugged. "No problem man. I'm sure I can find it."

"Alright. Either of you wanna try what I'm working on?"  Hunk tapped proudly on the pan. "I found this cinnamon-y bark in the garden that might go a _long_ way to making goo more tolerable. I'm not sure how strong the flavor is though..." He took a sniff of the shallow pan and recoiled. "Actually, can you watch this for a second?" He turned to Lance. "I need to get a couple things."

"No problem man." Lance said as Keith walked over to the cup cabinet.

"Great, be back in a few ticks!"

Lance watched Hunk hustle out of the room, and took another bite from his Soltan slice. This time, he was able to appreciate the flavor of the fruit, not just the aftertaste. It was a complicated sweetness with a sharp tang, like someone dropped a raspberry warhead in a gallon of some really fancy sweet tea mixed with lemonade. But good. He made an appreciative noise and took another bite. "Dude, Keith, have you tried this?" He asked, mouth half-full.

“Chewing with my mouth open?” Keith asked, voice vaguely disgusted. He didn't turn around to face Lance, his back to him as he dug through the cabinet.

“Nah, the fruit things Hunk picked.” Lance ignored the jibe, like the benevolent, patient person he was.

“The pink ones?” He asked. He was arching up to reach a higher shelf, making his shirt ruck up a bit in the back. Lance zoned out on that little strip of skin, taking another bite.

"Yeah, although they're yellow inside?"

Keith looked sharply over his shoulder. "Stop that."

"Stop wha'?" His eyes absently followed the spot he was watching when Keith's back twisted.

"Talking with your mouth full." Keith said, testy. He always got a little short when he was tired. The yawn stretching out behind Lance's eyes could sympathize. "Your mouth sounds are all gross."

Lance watched him turn his attention back to the cabinet, apparently satisfied from telling off Lance. The slice was almost gone, so Lance turned his attentions to the stove where the pan was sizzling away. He fiddled with the dials a bit for the pan, as the bark looked about to singe and the goo was taking on the weird red-brown color it did when it was close to burning. They all knew that burning goo did _not_ improve the taste. Satisfied with his efforts, he looked to the other ingredients Hunk had laid out. A scraped out bowl of goo, diced Soltan pieces in their own juice, and shavings of bark sat on the counter. Lance got an idea.

"Hey Keith," He asked, "Did you hear what these fruits mean?"

Keith sighed, a little huffy. He scraped a cup around the dark cabinet, trying to recognize the shape of his water bottle in the dim light. Was it too much to ask to relieve some stress in peace? He wished Hunk had stayed so he wouldn't be in this situation. "What do they mean, Lance?"

"Well," Lance sounded sly, and that was never good news, but Keith was a little too pissed to care. How Lance found the energy to do anything after what Allura put them through he'd never understand. "It's actually a kinda cool meaning." His footfalls were coming closer. "It means _SURPRISE_!"

Keith, for as much as he'll deny it, _yelped_  at the sudden chill on his lower back. Lance had pushed something cold and gooey at the base of his spine above his pants, a short strip of _ick_ and _slime_ and _gross_.

Keith whipped around, arm poised to attack before he heard Lance's laughter reached his ears. He was cracking up, and began to lean over, pushing Keith against the counter. He almost doubled over laughing, which brought his face a little too close to Keith's chest. "Oh-- _Hah_ \--" He panted out, his laughter dissolving into silent gasps. "Your _face_ , I _can't_ \--"

Keith's face flushed hot. "Shut up before I actually hit you!"

Lance continued to laugh and reached out a shaky hand on Keith's shoulder to steady himself. Keith noticed with distaste that his index finger was leaving a smear of green goo on his jacket. At least it was something he learned how to get out after years of food fights. He shoved it off. "Get your gross hand off of my jacket."

Lance straightened, trying to smother his guffaws, then looked at Keith's face and started all over again. Keith gave him a shove and Lance fell on his knees, then extended himself fully onto the floor.

"Hey guys, I'm back! Hope you haven't--" Hunk stopped when he came in to see Keith digging his boot into Lance's collarbone, as the latter was in tears in silent, sobbing laughter. He check to stove and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good, the goo's okay."

"I didn't find my water bottle." A red faced Keith said as he stepped over Lance's body, hiking his shirt up to his mid-back. He grabbed the towel he brought with him and wiped his lower back. "And somebody--" A fit of giggles came up from the floor, "--Thought it would be a good idea to-- To-- Ugh!" He whipped the towel at Lance's face. "Stop laughing!"

"Is he okay?" Asked Hunk, looking at Lance who laguhed more and rolled over at the question.

The giggles were becoming less desperate. "He will be."

"Okay." Hunk turned back to the stove, sprinkling the leaves over the pan. "Do you want to try my new goo?" Hunk asked, holding out a spoon. "It might be a _liiittle_ spicy, but the Dulpa leaves should help with that."

Keith took the spoon and gave it a whiff. The new spicy bark was the predominant smell, but there was a definite trace of goo and something vaguely floral. "It smells really nice man." Hunk preened as Keith pulled it into his mouth.

A sweet and nutty taste spilled over his tongue, like marzipan covered in cinnamon sugar. But squishy. The texture didn't quite fit, but the taste was pretty well done. He opened his mouth to voice his approval, but then another sensation hit him.

Calling it heat was an understatement. When Keith was young, about 4 or 5 young, he got his hands on a habanero pepper. On the edge of his memory he can bring traces of the pain in his mouth that spread to his eyes when he tried to rub away tears, only stopped with a liberal application of milk and gentle hands wiping at his face. He outgrew his fear of spicy foods later, but part of him was always cautious. It was never a bad plan to stop pain before you had it. Keith can see that his fear was a little silly now, but he didn't think there was anything in the world that could be spicier than that, that could hurt worse than a laser blast to the mouth.

Lance sat up, alarmed by the stretch of sudden silence. He looked at Keith and froze. "Dude, you're looking kinda..."

Tears started to well and fall out of Keith's eyes. He tried to open his mouth to crack back at Lance but was only able to some up with a creaky, painful sound.

"Oh shit!" Lance shot up. "I think that goo was a little spicy Hunk!"

"Oh god!" Hunk flailed a bit, flustered. The heat in Keith's mouth only intensified and he stuck a hand over his mouth to somehow stop it. Hunk spun in circles to look for something to help. "No milk, no bread--" He saw the rest of the Soltan he'd cut for Lance earlier and pounced on it. "Try this?"

Keith reached out half-blindly through his tears and grabbed it from his hands. He stuck it into his mouth, almost sobbing at near-instant relief the juice provided as it flooded his mouth his sweetness, drowning out the fire.

At that moment, Coran ran in. "Paladins! I believe I've discovered—" He looked to Keith, who had sweet juice dripping down his chin and hand with the Soltan in his mouth, and stopped in his tracks. "Oh." He looked to Hunk. "Is that a Soltan?"

Hunk nodded. Coran nodded and looked to Keith. "Right. And you obviously took a bite from it."

He looked to Lance. "You wouldn't have happened to take a bite from that as well, would you?"

"The fruit? Uh... Maybe?" He licked his lips, drawing in on himself under Coran's unexpectedly intense gaze. "Yeees?"

Coran just stood with a neutral expression for a beat, calculations running behind his eyes. "Very well. In that case, the two of you need to come with me."

"Wait," Keith croaked, wiping his chin. "What did you find?"

"What do you mean ' _in that case?_ '" Lance clamored from the ground, going after him. A moment later, he came back in the door. "You okay?" He asked Keith, who suddenly became very conscious of a couple tear tracks down his cheek and a glob of snot hanging out of his nose.

"Yeah," Keith said, voice stronger. He closed his fists around the fruit a little more, causing a little juice to come out. "I'll catch up."

Lance made a couple of hesitant steps toward him and a couple of aborted movements with his arms. "You kinda-- You have-- Here--" He tapped his philtrum, where Keith could feel the mucus dripping down. Lance looked pained and guilty, and Keith was too embarrassed to look away.

Hunk broke the eye contact by handing Keith the towel he wiped the goo onto earlier. Lance stood back to hover in the doorway and flag down Coran to let him know about the delay. Keith wiped his face down, careful to avoid the goo he'd already collected on the towel. It looked like he wasn't going to work out with it today. He winced when he swiped over his oversensitive eyes.

"Sorry about making a mess in here." Keith said when he got his face situation under control.

"Don't apologize! I'm sorry about feeding that to you!" Hunk looked around the kitchen. "Nothing much happened anyway, seriously, don't feel bad."  
  
Keith sighed, feeling a little pathetic and more than a little drained at the thought of having to face Allura again. "You couldn't have known. About the food. Besides, it tasted good before the whole... Fire thing." He wiped down his hands as best he could, wedging the towel in his gloves to absorb as much sticky fluid as he could. He wrinkled his nose at the wet feeling in the leather. "Kinda like a sweet nut thing."

"Really?" Hunk looked hopeful. At least something good might come out of this mess.

"Yeah, only like, hints of goo." Hunk looked pleased. Keith wished he could be that happy. "I have to go, I'll catch up later."

"I'll get it right next time!" Hunk said as Keith ran out the door. He looked to the bark shavings. 

"And to think, I trusted you."

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you thought! (Or if i made any mistakes ^^;) If you want, I have a tumblr [here](temencmoth.tumblr.com). 
> 
> Also why the heck did I write this in past tense, why did I do this


	3. We Have To Care Now

 

"Why of course, we must introduce to you, Princess and Paladins, Mix Traatoskophy, the second at my hand and first at my pen, the truest and trusted." He put his glass to his forehead, moved it slowly to the left, the right, to his other hand to cover the glass, hummed a short melody, bought the glass to his lips, put it on Mix Traatoskophy's head, then his own head, then bought the glass to his lips again, took a pull, spat it out over his left shoulder, then bought the glass to his lips again and drained the ruby liquid in the cup in a few quick gulps. He touched the glass to the top of Mix Traatoskophy's head again, then to her forehead, then to the left, then to the right, then placed it upside down on the table. Everyone was silent, then he lifted the cup again to reveal a perfect red ring left on the table. The Parencian council gave 3 polite claps, and tapped the table twice with the heel of their palms.

Lance is going to die of boredom.

Allura stepped on his foot under the table, and he suppressed a wince at her pointed formal heels. He turned his cup three times in time with her, watching the petals sprinkled in the cup bob with the movements. He took a long drag, careful not to ingest the decoration on top. He received three polite claps for his efforts.

Lance was sure he will die of boredom before the night is out.

Allura and all of the Paladins but Pidge had been stuck in this high-ceilinged formal dining room for about four hours now, being introduced one by one to every member of the upper government by the General that greeted them the other day. Pidge stayed back at the castle with Coran for "system maintenance," leaving the rest of them to put on their best diplomatic faces and drink gallons upon gallons of space juice. The light filtered in the chinalike ceilings barely betrayed the position of the sun, diffusing it evenly with a slight red halo on the material. But the direction of the light was markedly different from the start of the morning, moving the shadow of Lance's cup from his left to his right hand. Every introduction had been the same long sequence of steps, and Lance would guess there has been roughly a million introductions so far. He'll probably remember the exact way the General's fleshy, spider veined grey arms wiggle in his dreams.

He feels Hunk squirm a bit next to him. He wonders, again, how the General was able to make it these two hours of chugging red drinks without needing to pee at all. More than that, how he was able to talk for hours and hours without pausing— And this was coming from Lance, who once literally had his mouth duct taped by his bereaved mother. Alien physiology must be an amazing asset in situations like these. The Paladins have had to break thrice, and Lance suspects that his mouth is going to be deep stained red. He never wants to taste whatever this is again. His stomach is full up of liquid and sloshes whenever he moves, unhindered by any food. At least Hunk had the foresight to eat before the ritual.

Mix Traatoskophy took her seat again, and a ruddier face stepped onto the raised platform.

"Why of course, we must introduce to you, Princess and Paladins, Vantha Surpoltro, the second of my hand and the first to my arms, the truest and trusted." The attendants came by with refills for all of the paladins, exchanging their simple cups with completely congruent ones, the same flower floating serenely in the middle. The general continued the speech and Lance looked directly into the filigreed skylight above, trying to burn the hallow hall out of his retinas.

Just as the general placed his cup carefully upside down, the dramatically inlaid double doors to the hall slammed open by Pidge's boot.

"We have a problem."

*~*~*

Pidge sat, somewhat chastised, with Coran standing more firmly behind her. "Right, okay, so let's say I may have intercepted a dangerous message when I was monitoring every radio wave within a light year of us."

"Which is an admirable accomplishment." Coran insisted.

Allura looked at the two, face blank with the perfect pinch of unamused around her brow. She looked like a carved statue, her impeccably plaited hair and formal dress unmoving in the belly of the castle. Her dress was one she rarely pulled out, shimmering opalescence over a steely blue like a thunderclouded sky at dusk. The decorative trim pooled around the floor as she sat across from Pidge and Coran, tapping her well done nails on a console.

"I said I was sorry!" Said Pidge, whining it out between her teeth. "Please don't look at me like that."

"Whatever you found, I surely hope it was reason enough to interrupt the Sooea ceremony." Allura's voice was icy enough to spool ice into Lance's chest, secondhand shame surprisingly intense. As he was very recently on the receiving end of it, he supposed it was an instinctual reaction by now.

"I understand you're upset Princess," Coran said, trying to placate her, "but the Parencians agreed that Paladin duties come first, even above their ceremony."

"That was an optional ceremony anyway." Added Shiro. "Even they—"

" _Optional_?!" Lance balked. "I chugged gallons of space flower Kool-Aid for no reason?!"

"There was a reason!" Allura pulled down her cool facade. "It was a ceremony of goodwill and showing that we, as a separate and autonomous entity from any other power, as a group exercising martial action,  are able to play nice with galactic superpowers." The arm of the chair creaked under her stress. "It was a symbolic gesture because we accidentally performed one of their most sacred rituals! They don't even know it's a sham, how angry do you think they'll be if they find out? _When_ they find out?" That part was aimed with a glare at Lance and Keith. "We can't just shrug off what we don't want to do!"

The room was silent. Lance sat abashed, and Keith was on the verge on full sulk. Hunk fretted in place, unable to soothe the situation over, as Shiro looked over adding another layer of disapproval. Coran's moustache quivered, surprised at the strength of her outburst.

"But..." She put her head in a palm. "I am glad to be out of that awful teacup room." Allura breathed heavily, lifting some of the weight from their chests.

"Why don't we let Pidge tell us what she found?" Supplied Coran.

Pidge sat up a little squarer, turning to the console. "It is like, actually important. Like," She adjusted her glasses. "Attempts on our lives kind of important."

"Well that's new." Snarked Keith. He was tapping on his bayard, a habit he was picking up in stressful situations. Lance, stationed next to him, began tapping out a tandem rhythm until he stopped.

Pidge barreled past his sass. "Whenever we touch down on a planet I have a sort of net set up to catch all transmissions leaving the planet. After..." She glanced at Keith "the desert incident, I thought that it might come in handy as a double check for some situations."

"That sounds kind of illegal." Shiro said, worried.

"I mean yeah, but we're the space police." Her glasses flashed as she pushed them up her face. "Plus it's a pretty permissive algorithm, so as long as you aren't directly sending our coordinates to the Galra Empire you'll be good." She pulled down a holoscreen with an audiowave on it. "Like this guy did."

Shiro kept on her, eyes disappointed and arms crossed. "Don't think we aren't talking about this later." Pidge deflated but kept typing.

"Will the sender know that their transmission was intercepted?" Asked Allura.

"They won't get an error message, but they might catch on that their messages are being stopped if they keep sending them without a response." She turned to the holoscreen and clacked another key which began to play the recording.

The voice was garbled and grating, too low and too high all at once. Listening felt like ceramic marbles scraping through a cheese grater. Lance clapped his hands over his ears, grimacing.

 

" _ **T** he P **ala di**ns are here. Th **e** y will be **sta** tionary and off **the** ir gu **a** rd fo **r se** veral day **s. Ma** y this me **ssa** ge fin **d y** ou_."

 

Hunk shuddered back into his skin. "Dude, that's awful. Did we meet anyone who sounds like that?"

"It's been passed through a few voice filters." Pidge said. "Me and Coran tried taking them off, but neither of us are audio engineers so it's been a little slow going."

"This is... Bad news." Allura said. "The Parencians are a major resistance superpower, if they side with the Galra it would have major implications for our fight."

"It's worse than that." Said Coran, pulling up a 3D map. "We were able to triangulate the source to the Palace's official communications room."

"So it's likely someone in the palace or connected to it sent that message." Allura said. "That is really bad news."

"We have to tell the General!" Said Keith, ready to go. "If someone in his ranks is siding with the Galra—"

"Unless the general is in on it." Shiro said darkly. "He was insistent on our staying for the ceremony, it could be for this trap."

"It's possible that someone broke into the communications room." Coran offered.

"Occam's Razor." Shiro countered. "We can't assume that someone would go to all of that trouble. They wouldn't anticipate our interception, so they wouldn't want what I assume is a more impressive communications system."

"But the insistence on ceremony is expected in Parencian culture." Coran argued. "It would be stranger if he didn't insist on us staying."

"A convenient excuse if he needed one." Allura sighed. "I don't want it to be true. The Parencians have showed us a lot of kindness, and we've been promised aid when we request it."

"If we can trust the General's word." Said Pidge. "Man, can't anything go right?"

"We don't know that it's the General for sure." Offered Hunk. "He can't be the only one with access to the communications tower. Heck, for all we know it's a disgruntled technician."

The group was silent. The previous tension had crept back into the room.

"What would happen if we... leave?" Asked Lance, tentative. "If we aren't here, they can't call in the attack on us."

"We can be pretty sure that the traitor is high in the chain of command." Said Shiro. "Princess—"

Allura stood up, expression grim. "If we leave and they call in an invasion, they could conquer the unaware population. The Parencians lose their independence and we lose their support."

"Like you said Princess, they are a key player in resisting the Galra." Coran followed her line of sight out the window. "They cannot afford to fall."

"So we have no choice but to stay."

"Woah, hold on there." Lance stood up, serious. "I'm with you princess, but we're the Paladins." Lance swept an arm across the room. "We galavant around the galaxy. It's our job! If we stick around for too long, they start to suspect something, then what happens? Whoever it is that sent that message realizes our game, and we either fight a battle we're unprepared for or have to leave Parencia to one."

Hunk brightened immediately. "Guys, staying too long won't be an issue."

"Do you think the goodbye ceremony is gonna take a few months?" Pidge scrunched her nose, skeptical.

"No, we have a reason to stick around way past that!" He looked proudly over to Keith and Lance. 

"What are you talking about?" Asked Keith, exasperated.

Hunk just looked at him and smiled. Allura looked over, and realization slowly dawned on her face. He heard Pidge hide laughter behind her hands and looked over at Shiro for support, but he received only poorly hidden amusement. "What is it?" Lance groaned an "oh no" and Keith whipped his head around to him for answers. "What?!"

Coran came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Congratulations Keith, we're going ahead with your engagement!"

  
*~*~*

  
Keith was flushed and clammy. He sat at a jagged angle in the right corner of Lance's elbow, back pulled away from the sofa like the cushion was electrified. His hand was clasped in Lance's, both wrists at an awkward angle to stretch across their laps. He had his eyes screwed shut, breathing heavily through his nose to try and ease the vicegrip of his anger.

Pidge bust out into howling laughter. "They will never believe this in a million years."

Keith jumped up from the sofa immediately, glad for the excuse to extricate his hand. "I could've told you that much." He ignored his heart thudding in a weird way and the way Lance immediately put his arms into his lap.

"It was worth a shot!" Hunk said. "You guys fight together a lot, so there might've been some... Latent physical compatibility."

"Please don't phrase it like that." Said Lance. "Please."

"If... Whatever that was didn't work, how about pet names?" Shiro suggested. "Lance uses a lot of nicknames, it might make things seem more... natural." He looked at the pair. "At least on one side."

"Oh, does something about this not seem natural?" Keith deadpanned. His hand felt like a sweaty pebble in Lance's, like it was following him all day in his shoe. He flexed his glove, feeling residual stickiness from the Soltan inside his gloved palm reactivated by his sweat. He hoped that Lance couldn't feel it too.

"Nicknames, Huh?" Lance hmm'd, and got that look on his face that meant he was thinking about home. He looked to Keith. "Hit me with your best shot."

All eyes were on Keith, the rest of the crew banking their nervous energy on his decision. "Why do we even have to convince them at all?" He asked.

"Don't dodge this, go ahead!" Hunk said, always encouraging. 

Keith cleared his throat, buying time to search his mind. He his heart beat a tattoo, inexplicably eager for the outcome with the rest of them. He took a breath and pushed out the first thing that rang in his brain.

"Heeey... baby."

The words dripped painfully from his mouth like wet cement through a sieve. His expression was a forced, constipated twist that was honestly meant to be a smile. The room was silent.

"That was awful!" Blurted Lance, betrayed. "Oh my god, please never do that again!"

Keith flushed hot. "Shut up! Like you could do better!"

"I'm sure the local master of romance can come up with something better, _cariño_." He rolled his tongue smoothly around the r and ñ, accenting his sly look.

Keith shoved a finger in his face. "Whatever that means, it was sarcastic so it doesn't count."

The room had collected a sign of relief at their bickering. "Maybe pet names aren't the right idea for us." Shiro said diplomatically. "Maybe we could try—"

"Maybe not for Keith, but I've got plenty!" Lance said proudly.

"Can you say them about Keith though?" Hunk looked doubtfully between them. "This isn't like, a jokey insult thing like you guys do, it's supposed to be straight up romantic."

Lance huffed on his nails and shined them. "I'm sure I can muster up something special for mi pollito here."

"Your what?"

"Mi cielto, mi alma." Lance held out his hand in a picture of dramatic romance for a suspicious Keith. "Mi vida."

"Stop."

"Mi dulche de leche."

"Isn't that a cake?" Hunk asked.

"Mi gatito."

Pidge scrunched her nose. "Gatito? Like kitten?"

"Kitten?" Keith bristled further, swiping Lance's hand away. Lance let it fall and blustered at Pidge.

"Wh— How do you know that?"

Pidge looked offended. "Like every other proud monolingual American I took Spanish for six years and retained about 2.5 words, one being cat. Como estas, motherfucker."

Lance sighed. "Mal, chica. Mi prometido está..." He looked at Keith. "enfadado."

"What the hell is that?" Keith was two seconds away from pulling out one of his knives. "You can't switch to another language to insult me!" He settled with a hard punch to Lance's arm.

"They're not insults! And everyone loves cats!" Lance whined, rubbing his bicep. "Accurate and flattering descriptions are not punch worthy!"

"Well what the hell did that first thing mean?"

"Pollito? Chicken." Keith saw red and Lance blanched. "Wait! I swear it's—!"

"Keith, don't kill Lance." Shiro said, sticking an arm between them and stopping Keith's furious momentum. "Lance, shut up."

"We'll work on appearances later." Said Coran, typing away at the console. "But it might be more prudent to begin with what will be expected of you by the Parencians when you're there." He whooshed down some holoscreens that seemed to have thousands of pages of text. His eyes were shining. "First topic: Accepting Engagement Well-Wishes!"

Lance's face paled. "Can we go back to Keith punching me?"

Pidge raised her hand. "Do the rest of us have to stay?"

Caron stroked his moustache. "I suppose not. We'll have lessons for you later, but for now you're free to go!"

The rest of the Paladins sped out of the room with only an outstretched tongue from Pidge and a pitying look from Hunk. Keith had no companion to his flushed face and twitching chest, still fluttering in anger from Lance's smooth insults. Coran dimmed the lights so the tiny, scripted black on white text of the holoscreens was more clearly visible. 

"Section One: The Angle of Your Dangling Arms." He looked at the pair, excited. "You might want to sit down for this one!"

Keith wished he could go back to punching Lance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think! Or if my gremlin brain made a spelling/grammar/formatting mistake. As tends to happen. Don't be afraid to ask questions! I try to get around to every comment, it won't be trouble.
> 
> "Isn't this a little late?" 
> 
> OK listen
> 
> Yeah my life has been generally busy. I still have a lot of scenes I really want to get out here, so I'm going to continue though. It just might slot behind other things. But I like this and I like Voltron, sope.


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